


Table Talk (talking not so much)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: Poly!Queen Week 2019 [4]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 70s!Brian, 90s!Freddie, 90s!John, 90s!Roger, Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Smut, Multi, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 18:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20878700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: When a record executive is late for a meeting the boys find a way to spend their free time.





	Table Talk (talking not so much)

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. This one is not in my usual wheelhouse but hey, I'm exploring different things this week. This happens to be one of them.  
Brian is 27  
The others are in their late 30s, early 40s (I didn't pick an exact date for them)  
Prompt: Fucking in Public

Roger groans as Brian squirms in John’s lap. They’re waiting for the man they’re meant to be meeting with and Brian is taking advantage of the private office space, the guitarist is more mischievous than first looks would suggest. Freddie is trying to keep himself busy reading through the tour dates for probably the fifth time already.

John tugs at Brian’s ear, and Roger has to look away from the impish smile on Brian’s face.

“Stay still,” John rumbles.

Brian makes an exaggerated wiggling motion before crossing his arms, mostly relying on John and the chair to keep himself supported, “it’d be better if I got my own chair.”

Roger turns back around to see the sharp rise of an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

Before John can finish the statement an annoyed-looking secretary pops into the office, “I’m so terribly sorry, sirs, but unfortunately the _first _meeting is running late and is across town. It’ll be an hour before anyone can greet you. Can I get something for you?” 

Freddie sets the papers down, “no, thank you.”

“I’m sorry again.”  
Roger snorts if anyone was on time in this industry what would the point be? He waves off the questioning gaze and John answers for himself and Brian.

Brian who had taken that moment to curl up in John’s lap and rests his head on John’s shoulder, looking cute and not the type that was driving them crazy only a few seconds ago.

“What were you saying about your own chair, pretty boy?” Freddie grins.

“Nothing, _sir.”_

Brian is rewarded with another tug to his ear. He pouts, but Roger is almost completely certain that it’s because he wants John tugging on something else. John’s jaw is tightly clenched and he’s near to giving in. Roger wouldn’t mind, they have an hour to kill after all. Freddie leans back in his chair.

“What are we to do for an hour?”

Oh good. They’re on the same page.

John looks at Brian who seems to have noticed the air in the room going the way he wants it to. Roger grins, it’s been a long time since he got a blowie in a record executive’s office, and he knows for a fact that Brian’s never given one in an executive's office. John guides Brian’s head by his hair so that they can make eye contact.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” John says softly.

Even Roger perks up at the tone. Since they added Brian to their relationship (after much soul searching (_he’s twenty years younger)_ and convincing from Brian) Roger hasn’t had a chance to be the target of John’s orders. Not that he minds too much, his hips _ache _for days afterward.

Brian on the other hand, well he’s just eager to please.

“You’re going to get under that table and put that mouth to use,” John whispers against the shell of Brian’s ear, “and you aren’t going to come up until we’ve all come or we tell you.”

Brian nods.

“Words, pretty boy.”

“Yes, sir.”

John smacks him lightly as Brian climbs down. The table is opaque but if Roger really looks he can see the mass of curly hair moving under it. Brian’s head pops up next to John.

“Who should I go to first, sir?”

The tone is bratty. Roger leans forward to see what John is going to do. His eyes are narrowed, but he glances around to the three of them.

“Fred, first. Then me.”

“Oy,” Roger pouts, “why am I last?”

“Because you’re least likely to help in the meeting,” John smirks glancing down at Brian, “and it’s insurance.”

Roger feels his mouth water. Brian is going to take those words as a personal challenge, and within seconds his head is back under the table. He hears, faintly, Brian moving to Freddie. Freddie leans forward like Roger, mostly to cover themselves from any curious eyes. John keeps leaning back though. Lucky bastard must have a better view of Brian from that angle.

There’s a quick intake of breath from Freddie before he lets out a low groan. Roger shifts again feeling himself harden.

“So, what do you think of the dates?”

“I don’t like the bit in the middle. Three shows in a row for four weeks?” Roger shakes his head, “I won’t have much of a voice by the end of it.”

“Do we argue to spread them out or drop one completely?”

Freddie groans and rolls his eyes back.

“I’d say drop the Thursday ones,” Roger shrugs, “Friday and Saturday sell much better.”

John takes the paper and makes a note of it. Roger watches Freddie, he’s slowly rolling his hips. He pictures what the sight must look like. Brian is beautiful, but there are times he looks ethereal, Roger is enough of an egoist to say he looks best sucking their cocks.

“Freddie?”

“Piss off,” he flicks John off and his voice wavers.

John grins and pulls himself closer to the table. One of Freddie’s hands goes under the table. The secretary from before walks past the room, peering into the meeting room. Roger tilts his head in acknowledgment and she continues on. Freddie raises his hand to his mouth and bites down on it.

One thrust that nearly makes the rolling chair go out from behind him later, Freddie is biting harder into the hand. There is some thumping from underneath the table. The moment that Freddie is settled, his hand is back under the table and pulling Brian up by the back of his head to give him a messy kiss.

Roger tilts his head. Brian’s lips are swollen and shiny from spit, his hair sticking out at wilder angles than before and there’s the tiniest dribble of come at the corner of his mouth. Freddie wipes it off after giving him a fond peck on the tip of his nose.

“Okay, I think John is ready for you.”

Brian flashes them a grin and dives back underneath the table. Freddie spends a few seconds trying to collect himself. Roger pouts as he watches John’s eyes close in pleasure. He is trying to get a deep angle on Brian. Roger would be worried that Brian would gag if he didn’t know that’s exactly what their guitarist wanted.

He has another moment of this feeling off. They’re all equal in the band, and Brian is no means dependent on them since he joined the band over four years ago. Still, they’re older and he is worried their dynamic in the bedroom is going to bleed over to their relationship. It’s the last thing he wants because Brian and his guitar are bloody brilliant. It would be a shame for Queen to lose them.

“Roger, are you being silly again?” Freddie says lightly.

Roger forces a scowl at him as if Freddie hadn’t had the same worries at the start of this. He just seemed to accept that Brian would tell them if he was uncomfortable, which Roger trusts but he knows that it might go too far before Brian says anything.

He’s mouthy until it matters.

John groans loudly but manages to bring it down to a manageable level quickly. He flexes one hand on the table, rolling then pencil between his fingers.

“Christ, Bri,” he hisses.

Freddie snickers, “sounds like Bri isn’t holding back.”  
Roger shrugs, “so do you agree with the tour dates?”

“Cutting those Thursday shows in the middle?” Freddie taps his fingers twice, “I don’t mind. Rest my voice a little.”

“Great.”

“Oh did you see the outfits they planned?”

John hisses. Roger watches John grind his teeth down into his bottom lip, both hands under the table now.

“Some of them. Mine are fine, I think.”

“I think I’m going to ask to have some of the jackets swapped. They’re far too similar to ones I’ve worn before.”

“Didn’t they want to make it a throw back to Wembly?”

John’s breathing is growing heavier. They can just make out the sounds of Brian growing sloppier. Roger scoots forward to hide the tent in his pants better.

“They can do that with just the color scheme, no? No one is going to see me in a yellow jacket and wonder if I’m referencing something else.”

“Fair enough.”  
Seconds later John is doubled is leaning back in the chair breathing heavily. He waves one hand up and Brian’s head pops out from the table. Roger can’t see his face this time, because of the angle. They kiss messily, and John holds Brian above the table for a moment.

“How’re you?” John asks softly, “words, please.”  
“Good,” Brian breathes out.

Roger bites his cheek to keep from demanding Brian come to him. John’s just going to use their guitarist as a chew toy if that’s the case. They hug for a moment longer, John whispering into Brian’s ear.

“Okay, go help out Roger before he loses it.”

He flicks John off as Brian slips back under the table. Roger closes his eyes when he feels familiar fingers undo the button and zipper of his trousers. He leans back slightly to give Brian space, but if he leans too far back, anyone passing by is going to be able to see the mop of curly hairs.

From there it isn’t too hard to guess who it would be.

Roger chokes back a yelp when he feels Brian lick the tip of his cock. The licks grow less hesitant (as if Brian is embarrassed to be on his knees). His tongue swipes low before he wraps his lips around his head and sucks.

“Bloody hell,” Roger groans.

Both Freddie and John have picked up the conversation about stage wear.

“I just don’t see how why they’d want me in platforms again, not only am I a little too old for that, they’re so many years out of style.”

His dick hits the back of Brian’s throat. He bites his tongue to keep from screaming out. John sends him a cheeky smile; which Roger would respond to if all of his attention wasn’t on Brian between his legs. Brian pulls back for a moment and hums slightly. Roger spreads his legs further and extends on, to vent his pleasure.

“So you think bringing back the glam era is a good idea?” John asks.

Brian’s nose is nudging in the space as he deep throats again. Roger still hasn’t quite figured out how Brian is able to keep his breathing well enough to not only take them that deep but also have enough energy to do it three times. Roger could never finish the second one without the use of his hand.

He groans as Brian pulls completely off. Brian’s hand twists around his base twice, before his lips are back around him. Roger barely manages to bite into his hand. All it takes is the slightest pressure from Brian’s teeth and him swallowing before he’s coming.

For a moment he’s worried that he broke the skin in his hand. Once he calms down, he reaches below the table and burrows his hands into Brian’s curly hair before dragging him above the table. He drinks in Brian’s sight. His face is red, matching the puffy and spit-shiny lips, Brian’s eyes are half-lidded with the pressure.

Roger swipes his sleeve over Brian’s face. It earns him a sharp smile. They kiss, Roger shoving his tongue into Brian’s mouth. All three of them linger and Roger sighs happily at the taste. He eventually drops Brian’s head and the guitarist starts to slip back under the table.

“No,” Roger growls and then looks to John in confirmation.

John waves his hand _whatever you want. _

Brian climbs into his lap at that burying his face into Roger’s neck. Roger keeps Brian steady by a hand on his waist.

“Do you want to get off?” Roger asks quietly.

“Done,” Brian pants.

_Oh._

“Okay, Brimi, just catch your breath.”

“We have about ten minutes before the hour is up,” John says.

Brian nuzzles into his neck, mouthing at it slightly.

“Going to be okay by then?” Freddie asks.

Brian nods his head, “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, because you’re going to have to get into your own chair.”

Brian whines.

“Oh don’t be like that, you asked for it,” John says with a slight smile.

“Then you shoved me under the table,” Brian counters tiredly.

Freddie laughs, “he’s still a brat.”

Roger pats Brian’s waist slightly. Brian might be a brat, but he’s their brat. He only wishes that they had been born closer together, one can only dream of how well Queen would have done then. At John’s frown, he shrugs. There really is no use dwelling on what could’ve been. He can think about the future though.

At five minutes until their hour deadline Roger pushes Brian off of him and towards the seat between him and Freddie. Thankfully the five-minute cool down makes him look less fucked out. His hair is a mess, but then again it always is and the flush has gone down significantly.

“Actually I think I’m going to run to the loo.”

Ah. Right. That had been a thing.

Roger wolf whistles as Brian scurries out of the meeting room.

It takes him fifteen minutes and he barely beats the record executive back to the office.

“I’m so sorry for the delay,” he does look genuinely upset and very harried.

“Oh, no worries,” Freddie waves his hand and sends a wink to Brian, “we entertained ourselves.”

**Author's Note:**

> That was a thing.  
As always leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr!


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